Stop Talking
by TurnUps
Summary: It had just slipped out of his mouth. Her name. Her real name. It had been in the middle of a fight. He had only meant to warn her – to stop herself getting impaled by a giant paperclip. He had meant to say Ladybug. Because she didn't know and he hadn't meant to tell her because she had always respected his privacy – But the paperclip- "Marinette!" /Oneshot reveal fic.


**(A/N): Because he called her Buginette he totally knows and I had to write a reveal fic because I love a good ol' cup of angst in the morning.**

It had just slipped out of his mouth. Her name. Her _real_ name.

It had been in the middle of a fight. He had only meant to warn her – to stop herself getting impaled by a giant paperclip. He had _meant_ to say Ladybug. Because she didn't know and he hadn't meant to tell her because she had always respected his privacy –

But the paperclip-

"Marinette!"

She hadn't said anything at the time. She had dived out of the way, summoned Miraculous Ladybug and saved the day. She hadn't so much as glanced at him. He had hoped that perhaps she hadn't heard.

But she was late to their patrol. Ten minutes.

Ladybug was never late. _Marinette_ was late to school. She was late to practically everything. But Ladybug wasn't. She was _always_ on time.

A shadow finally appeared, a streetlamp like an orange halo around the shadow of the pigtails. She was wearing a coat, but he knew it was her. From her steps and silhouette. He knew her better than he knew himself.

"Evenin' m'lady," he said it as cheerily as he could – as though he hadn't noticed that she was Ladybug.

"Why did you call me Marinette?" a voice whispered. As though the fight had been seconds ago instead of two days ago.

"I – I was just calling to one of my classmates-"

 _She didn't want him to know. And as much as he had been dying to know – he had known not to push it. She would tell him when she was ready. Forcing her into telling him – as he had now – would only push her further away._

 _It was better if he pretended not to know._

"There were no school kids there," Marinette said. "You know that. It was just the office workers."

"You – I was just – you remind me of someone I know-" Chat stammered. His excuse fell short – like when he skipped stones and they sunk immediately. They both knew he was stumbling for a lie.

"Marinette who?" she asked.

 _As though there was another one._

"I think you know," he said.

 _Might as well be honest._

The shadow stumbled, pressing against the brick wall, like she would be able to disappear completely.

"How did you…"

"I just – guessed," Chat said. He scratched the back of his neck and avoided looking at her. He could see those piercing blue eyes. He knew they were focused on him; boring a hole into the side of his head. "Of all the people who haven't been akumatised in class…and who always disappears when one appears…and you are, like, the only person in school with – those eyes."

He regretted it as soon as he said it. Maybe more than yelling her name in the first place.

"Chloe has blue eyes," she said.

Chat paused for a moment.

 _Well, he had dug his hole this deep…_

"They're not like yours."

"What do you…" Marinette trailed off.

"Your eyes, Ladybug, they are like the deepest ocean. They are a blue I never thought could exist as an eye colour. The eyes of a heroine in a Shakespeare play rather than the eyes of an actual person-" he broke off when she started to back away. "-I'm making it sound weirder than I mean it."

She was silent, her arms hugging herself tightly. Like she was trying to hold up a shield. Like it would obscure her identity.

"I can't believe that you didn't guess it too – it just started becoming so clear to me," Chat said. "I wasn't going to tell you that I knew – I promise it was an accident – but – I thought you would realise too."

"How would I know? I haven't tried to investigate!" the girl hissed. "I haven't pried into _your_ life!"

"I didn't _pry_ into your life," Chat Noir was trying not to shout. He was trying not to get annoyed. But he was angry at himself for letting it slip and angry that it wasn't going how he had imagined it at all.

And she was _shaking._ And he wanted it to stop her from shaking – be there for her – say the _right_ thing - but he didn't know how – it was all coming out and you can't stop a train wreck halfway through.

"Oh, come on, Marinette – you really didn't notice anything different happening?" he was started to get frustrated now. They were always on the same page. About everything. Why was there such a rift between Chat Noir and Marinette? What was the difference? "You didn't think _someone_ was spending a lot of time with you all of a sudden?"

The shadow wavered.

He wanted to scream his name at her. But there was a hook in his gut pulling him back from doing so.

"What do you mean?" she whispered. She took a step towards him and the orange halo was back. "What are you saying?"

He shook his head.

 _Don't make me say it out loud._

"You're saying-"

 _Here it comes._

"Adrien – did you only hang out with me because you knew I was _Ladybug_?!"

She sounded horrified. Disgusted with him.

He was disgusted by himself.

"No – no – that wasn't the only reason-"

"Not the _only_ reason? Oh – you liked my eyes too? Because they're like Ladybug's?"

"Marinette, that's not-"

"And you knew – I mean you must have known how much I – and you – you _let_ me think that I somehow had a chance – that you _somehow_ liked me – and you only talked to me because I was a _superhero-"_

"That is not why-"

"I made you a _hat_ and a – and – when – all this time-"

"I love _you_!"

She blinked at him. Affronting. Her eyelashes cast dark shadow across her cheeks and her lips seemed black in the darkness. She stared at him and the look on her face was horror.

It made Chat Noir feel sick. He would have given anything not to have seen that look on her face. Not aimed at him. He'd rather have not had the miraculous at all than see her look at him like that.

But she was giving him a chance.

He had to try.

"I love you, Marinette," Chat Noir repeated. "When I knew – you're so brave and clever and – and you're the only person who's ever had their classmates stand up to an akuma for them on their behalf-"

"That's only because they're so used to them-"

"Because they care about _you_ , Marinette. Because you're kind and-"

"And you love Ladybug," her words were icy. A sad kind of anger. Hurt and betrayal. "You don't love _me_ – you wouldn't even have noticed _me_ if I wasn't Ladybug."

"If you weren't Ladybug then I wouldn't want to be Chat Noir-"

" _Shut up_!" she was yelling now, and he heard her voice cracking as she repeated herself. "Shut _up._ You stupid, _stupid_ cat!"

 _He'd gone too far. He should really start thinking before he said things. Should really learn to cool it with the romantic lines._

Her fists were tight little balls at her sides.

 _She was going to hit him._

She stepped forward, enough for him to see how her eyes were glimmering with tears. A streak of mascara under her eye like a cut.

 _She was going to punch him._

He looked up to meet her gaze. Met her yes and prayed that she could see how sorry he was. That she would somehow understand just by looking at him.

She glared at him, then made a quick, tiny gasp –

And fled.

Her shoes, those tiny little slip-ons, slapped on the pavement as she ran.

He stood there, his cheek stinging from the phantom slap.

 _She hadn't hit him._

He should go after her. Make sure she was alright. That she didn't turn into an akuma.

He stayed there. Frozen.

 _Give her a minute. To get home and calm down._

 _Give himself a minute. To gather his words._

He took a deep breath and stood under a lamp post, glaring out at the darkness surrounding him. _This would make it look like he was on guard. Like he was doing what a Parisian hero should._

 _Not like he was running after a girl. The girl he loved. With every fibre of his being._

He had wanted to tell her of the joy – of the absolute sheer joy that had burst through him like a sunbeam when he had discovered it. The superhero he loved and the girl he had been crushing on where the _same_ person. That was an amazing stroke of luck. That was the kind of luck – the kind of coincidence that just _didn't_ happen in real life. He was so –

Black cats were unlucky. They were always unlucky.

He was foolish to think that she would take it well - however he told her – because luck was never with him.

It was the early hours of the morning when he started the trudge back to Marinette's house. He had long since ran out of words to try to explain. He had no idea how to fix this.

Her light was on. Staring out at Paris as though it was protecting the princess inside.

He climbed up to her balcony, moving like a shadow instead of a hero. Impending doom. A monster in a horror film.

He knocked at the door.

"Princess, won't you please take pity of a poor, stray kitty?" he asked. Trying to keep it light. Trying to keep the same teasing tone he always did. _Because how else would he start this conversation._

"It's your own fault you're out there!" Marinette's voice hissed from the inside.

The lights went out.

 _She was probably crying. Probably didn't want him to see._

"I wanted to say that – I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't – I didn't mean for it to happen this way. I don't like you _because_ you're Ladybug. I like you _and_ Ladybug – or – I mean – I loved Ladybug but then I started to love you too and that – confused me because I thought you could only love one person – but then – then you were the same person and – I just – I love you…"

There was still silence. He strained his ears for any noise but all he got was the buzz of silence. He had said love too much.

"I wasn't going to tell you because I thought you'd take it like this – it only slipped out because I wanted to protect you – both of you – just you – because – I'm sorry. I'm so…"

There was a slight shuffle but no reply.

"I didn't hang out with you _because_ you were Ladybug – but you were starting to, I don't know, talk to me – in full sentences – like those first few days and that was what made me realise…I loved Ladybug because she had everything I had liked about you. But you just – dissolved when I spoke to you and – well – it was hard to - and then you started – _talking_ to me and I realised that everything I loved about Ladybug I loved about you and please just _talk to me,_ Marinette."

Nothing.

"I would have noticed you even if you weren't Ladybug," he said, his head pressed against the closed door. "I would have noticed you because you are a jack of all trades and a master of none – and you can make these amazing things and understand people and you go to – ridiculous lengths for your friends and your fiery and sweet and – I'm making you sound like a chilli pepper-" he may have been flattering himself if he thought he heard a giggle. "But I think Marinette is a _lot_ cooler than Ladybug. She – blows Ladybug out of the park…I just couldn't figure out how to let go of Ladybug…she was my first love."

"…You were mine."

Marinette's voice was hardly even a whisper.

"I didn't want you to have to face this," Chat Noir said. He could see a vague outline through the glass. "To face me – when I know you don't like Chat like-"

The door opened suddenly and he almost fell through. He couldn't see Marinette – she was a vague outline in the darkness. The moonlight hardly lighting up her face. But her hair was down.

"Just. Stop. Talking," she said. "Talking is how you got yourself into this mess."

There was a split second where he felt her hands on his face and thought – _Holy camembert, she's not going to_ –

And then her lips were against his and his brain was frozen because he _couldn't_ comprehend it.

 _She's – kissing – and – does she_ like _? Has she forgiven-_

 _Does she love me?_

Marinette pulled away slightly, enough to breathe, not enough for him to gain the strength to open his eyes, because _she probably smacked him and left him unconscious and this is all a dream._

"Y really think that Marinette is cooler than Ladybug?" she asked. He could feel her breath on his face. Warm –

 _And her lips were so close._

"Postively," he replied.

But the "pos" came out as a "purr."

And not intentionally.

 _He had just purred at her. Again._

He thought it was because he was just so _relieved._ And his heart was singing because she had _kissed_ him and admitted-

And it was going how he had imagined it and he was never that lucky.

She stared up at him, as though she was figuring out whether or not he had meant to pun.

The night air suddenly felt hot on his cheeks.

All of a sudden, Chat Noir could barely breathe as Marinette enveloped him into a tight hug. A rib-cage cracking hug.

She buried her face into his chest – jingling the bell around his neck – and stayed firmly there.

He had caught her on instinct – and she would have slipped if he hadn't.

Her shoulders were shaking, and he wasn't sure how to stop it. He wasn't sure how to make this better. His hands just hovered over her as she clung to him like a baby monkey.

"I don't know – I don't know – I don't know what to think," she sobbed against him. "I don't know what to feel but I just want you to hold me, Chat – just for a little while."

 _She was still calling him Chat. She wouldn't believe he was Adrien._

 _That was fine. She could take as long as she liked._

He hugged her back, pressing his mouth against the top of her head and relishing in the moment when she didn't pull away. When she stayed, trembling against him. He closed his eyes. Imagined the world away. There was just her – and him – in the dark – so dark that they didn't have to look each other in the eye and deal with this mess - and they were both breathing.

And he was there for her.

"I always will be here."


End file.
